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RPlog:New Beginnings
It has been seventeen years since the Battle of Yavin, but the galaxy is far from a peaceful place. Dosha, home of the Trandoshan race, has been conquered by the Sith Empire, her people enslaved and forced to work for their brutal Sith masters. A freighter full of slaves and Sith guards out on a routine mission has become the scene of a violent rebellion - after a sudden onslaught, the slaves were able to wrest control of the ship, hastily sabotaging of the craft's shields and weapons systems as one of their number sent out a distress call, albeit one in the hisses and snaps of the Doshan language. Before a response can come, however, the armed guards were able to beat back their slaves and regain some semblance of control aboard their vessel. This is where we begin. Kussak had been the one who was sending out the distress call. He had been planning this with about 20 other slaves for over six months now, learning every routine of the guards and such and learning everything the ship was capable of by working close to the cockpit. One of his duties in fact was to scrub the entire ship clean, including the cockpit, so he got a good bearing on how everything was laid out on the ship. Now that the plan was in place, he thought they could easily take on the guards. It worked for awhile, but momentarily, some other Sith ships came to the rescue of the over-ran Sith cargo cruiser, and the small uprising was crushed with a mighty force. At least two dozen slaves lost their lives int he fighting. Once the ship was under control, Kussak was grabbed by three heavily armed guards and brought to the interrogation chambers for questioning. Space is a large and dark place. And on board a slave transport, there are a lot of nooks and crannies. The catch is, the crew were using a handful of droids and before the slaves took over one of the guards activated a protocol in one of the droids. The guards are mostly unconscious and/or dead. But there are one or two who are alive and bound. The droid protocol had it access the ship's computer and transmit another distress call, a silent one towards the Sith Empire. Now, this was located quickly and deactivated and nobody knows if the message got through. However, just as the slaves are sending their distress call.. space distorts and a three hundred meter ship that was venerable during the battle of Endor.. a Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, the only ship anywhere close enough to pick up the emergency transmission... slides out of hyperspace and it begins transmitting a message even as a squadron of TIE Mk2's disgorge from its launch bay. These TIEs are escorting a Gamma Shuttle that launches as well, Armored-VacSuited troopers ready for a boarding action. "Slave transport. You will power down and prepare to be boarded." is the message in its simplicity. No point in getting wordy. Hopefully, there will be other forces around to help the beleaguered transport. "Let's go!" The Sith Squadron-Leader calls out over his Comm-system. The whining engines of the TIE Interceptors fill the hangar-bay of the Nebulon Frigate as the hangar personnel evacuate the bay. The launching struts extend, allowing the TIEs to drop from their racks, spinning around into formation with each other. "Keep it tight, boys. This is a simple run, i don't want to see any scratches!" The TIEs form up on the dropship, heading toward the Slaver ship in swarm. It is not solely the Sith that hear and answer the call from the Sith ship-- this close to New republic space, it is likely unsurprising that a regular patrol would be in range of the signal... and the Republic has some definite opinions on the point of slavery. Two full flights of the New Republic's fiendishly agile A-Wing Interceptors flicker out of the inky black, decelerating from hyperspace, and their engines light to propel them towards the developing scene as their com systems come alive. "This is New Republic Blue Squadron. Attention aggressing vessels-- we are answering a distress call and are prepared to see this vessel to safety. Stand down immediately or lethal force will be applied." Within the interrogation chamber aboard the slave ship, Kussak's situation looks grim. Two guards man the door, while their third comrade paces around the Trandoshan's chair, ignoring his own bloodied nose. "How, beast?" the Sith hisses, clearly irritated at the lapse in security on the vessel. "How did you savages break your bonds so easily?!" Meanwhile, on the bridge, one of the Sith troopers who helped regain control of the /Revenge/ drops into the pilot's seat and cues up the com, sounding more annoyed than anything else. "Understood. We are powering down our engines and awaiting your arrival." Message sent, he kills the slave transport's engines, allowing the inbound Sith craft to catch up with no trouble at all. The reinforcements come as a welcome relief, and the return to the status quo is much looked forward to by the men aboard the ship. The pilot swears as the flight of Republic fighters exits hyperspace but stops short of re-powering the engines. The Sith are closer, and better equipped. Perhaps it would behoove him to allow them to handle it... ...however, the A-Wings are not alone. Moments after they exit hyperspace, a Corellian Corvette snaps into being a ways behind them, the Republic crest bright against its hull. Evidently, the fighters have some backup. Kussak sits chained to the chair, his hands chained behind his back to make sure he cannot escape this time. Yes he is scared, but also proud of what he did, he organized a rebellion and managed to kill several Sith slavers and guards. That was a good enough victory, even though it would have been nice to escape. In regards to the guards question, the Trandoshan has no answer. He remains silent not bothering to tell him anything just yet. He hopes someone received their message of distress and is buying time for them. He just glares coldly at the guard addressing him, his breathing steady but a bit heavier than usual, having just fought in battle, and being a bit scared, though he as a Trandoshan tries his best not to show his fear. "Captain. The NR Forces are pouring in. They must've been the same distance out as we were. Their fighters are faster than ours, and their support ship has better engines as well. Should I commit the reserves yet?" This is the scene aboard the Bridge of the Frigate. The Captain just shakes his head. "We shall wait.. Helm... plot a course for the transport. Make them come to us.. and warm up all Turbolasers and point defense guns. That should keep the fighters from trying to get too close to us." And the Frigate does just that, even as the Gamma Assault Shuttle pours on a measure of speed, trying to get to the transport before it can be intercepted. The guns are warmed up there too. The Frigate's Captain waits.. waits.. and then as the range closes, he states, "Launch scimitars -now-.. and half a dozen of those heavy craft pour out of the launch bay with the hopes of dealing with the Corvette on the NR's side. Also, a heavy Turbolaser blast reaches out at extreme range to fire across the Transport's bow. No response other than that is given to the NR commands to stand down. The TIE Interceptors are already on-top of the Slaver ship, the forward scout unit does a quick pass, escorting the Wing-Commander. "We have Enemy blips dropping from hyper!" The Squadron Leader calls out, "All fighters, Engage incoming craft as soon as they're in range." The whine grows louder as the fighters engage at full speed, swarming around the Slaver-ship like flies to a decomposing corpse. They're not the famous Rogues, but Blue Squadron are no pack of amateurs, with many certified Ace pilots of their own, and it shows. Eight nimble NR snubfighters slot into a dogfighting formation in four pairs, the converted stunt craft moving in fast, precise motions as the oft-envied Event Horizon engines push the A-Wings to their full sublight velocity. As they enter range of the Sith fighters, the pairs split, each pair diverging some fifteen degrees from their base path in opposite directions, as if daring their opponents into a one-on-one confrontation, in what on the surface seems to fly in the face of everything they teach in flight school about sticking to one's wingman. Captain Draelis says loudly over the local comms. In the belly of the Republic capship, two Marine null-atmo assault shuttles are already hot and prepped for the order to launch. The hangar is at double atmo for a rapid decompression, and the assault boats are at zero internal atmosphere for breaching. Each shuttle contains ten Marines equipped for hullside combat. The breaching teams on the front end of the tow tethers give their gear one last check, while each Marine team checks his buddy's harness while his buddy checks his. Draelis says over the comm. Two green lights flicker inside the lead shuttle as each jumpmaster confirms a ready, and the Marine in that role next to Draelis gives him a thumbs up. Draelis nods through his facemask. The Jumpmaster on Draelis' boat gets to the entrance of the assault ramp and turning, faces the double-line of Marines. He secures his own harness rig that holds him in place and activates the red 'ready' light. Draelis takes his seat at the front of the craft and straps in, a senior NCO checking his gear and being checked in turn as Draelis takes his place alongside his Marines. The lack of a response from Kussak earns an irritated snarl from the Sith interrogator, who raises a hand and takes two brisk steps towards the bound Trandoshan, ready to backhand the uncooperative slave across the face - but he halts before he can strike him, his attention caught by the room's intercom squawking to life. Narrowing his eyes, he turns to stalk for the rooms exist, gesturing sharply at the Trandoshan as he passes the guards. "Watch it," he barks. The guards nod and focus on Kussak as their superior departs for the bridge. The /Revenge/ hangs in space, looking almost serene compared to the fighters swarming around it. With its engines powered down and its weapons sabotaged by the slaves during their oh-so-brief taste of freedom, it can only drift there, and wait. The trandoshan slaves on board, including Kussak, have all been restrained, leaving the crew free to hurriedly attempt to bring their weapons back from the brink to aid the Sith frigate and interceptors... but it won't be happening soon. "I don't think they're going to stand down," Captain Toshak muses, watching as the Sith Nebulon-B's shot fires across his Corvette's bow - an unintentional warning shot. He looks to his left and nods once, and his crew bursts into action - weapons come online, shields are brought to full strength, and the battle truly engages as they, too, open up at range upon their counterpart craft, trusting Blue Squadron to handle the fighters. "Signal the assault shuttles - they may launch when ready. May the Force be with us." Kussak growls at the Sith guard as if daring him to try. He is ready to absorb whatever blow is to come. But suddenly the guard leaves, leaving the two others to watch him. The Trandoshan conserves his energy and strength which he might need later he assumes, so for now he waits silently glaring in a nearly motionless state at the wall, knowing that this moment of semi-peace and stillness won't last. He can't hear much going on around him right now, due to the sound-proof room he is in, and the dim light makes it hard to see much of anything. The Trandoshan uses this moment as a moment to collect his thoughts and preserve his energy. "Target the Corvette's Engines." commands the Frigate's Captain. The ship is slowing, decelerating as it gets closer to the transport Revenge. Then the Gamma Shuttle appears for one moment, to almost disintegrate. Of course, to the trained eye, it simply disgorges its plethora of Zero G Assault Troopers who are kicking in thrusters and heading for the slaveship. "This should be a cakewalk." remarks the lead trooper. Little does he know that there are NR Marines ready to come to the rescue. The bombers begin to arrow in at the Corvette, defying it to shoot them down, or to divert the A-Wings to the cause. They're approaching single file so that only the lead may be shot down while the scimitars in the rear prepare to lock and fire. All in all, a fairly bleak situation at the moment. Until of course, one little detail becomes known. "Sir! Captain!" calls a voice over the Frigate's internal comms. The Engineer continues, "That harmonic is back! I need to take the shields offline for a few minutes or they'll feedback and blow out the whole grid!" and then the frigate's energy emissions change as the shields drop. However, to make up for that, the fire of the Turbolasers and Point Defense guns intensifies to try to keep the enemy forces back from it. "What's going on?!" The Wing Commander's scanners show the frigates shields drop and he peers out his side view-port. "Do not engage fighters alone, stick with your wingmen." he orders, now considering the lives of his pilots as the Frigate's defenses fall. "Engage!" Green fire begins to spew from the individual TIEs, streaking toward their intended targets. The bomber formation is like throwing raw meat at an acklay, at least judging by the way the republic fighters abruptly seem to abandon all interest in anything else in favor of a delicious, high-priority meal. Rather than pulling back in toward each other to pick off Interceptors, they end up flanking the line of bombers instead, red lances of destruction raining down toward the opposing bombers. over the tac comm, some of the pilots have broken their discipline at the sight. "Sure nice of Captain Toshak to bring us out to this practice ground for some trap shooting," one says, followed shortly by "Cut the chatter and watch for Inties, Blue Five." Seems the flight leader can't believe their luck, either and expects a trap. Even in the silence of a vacuum, one can almost hear the Marines on the assault boats holding their breath. There is no telling what is going on outside the ship- how intense the fire is, how many ships or how much debris is present. Now they just wait. The light turns green. There's a tremendously silent jolt of motion and the first assault shuttle blasts out from the Corvette with a burst of frosty discharge as the atmosphere freezes in the vacuum. The engines flare hot and the shuttle screams towards the slaver ship, tearing across the intervening space even faster than the nimble TIEs or A-wings can compete with. The shuttle doors slide open while the assault ship is still in full burn. The light turns green and the Marines toss themselves bodily out the access hatch. The tethered teams spread out into a pair of five-point stars, each Marine activating a burst of compressed air to slow himself to a safe speed. One of the five-man teams aims for the engineering section at the back of the craft, while Draelis leads his team straight for the bridge. The impact is brutal, but the Marines make their mark and rapidly set breaching charges on external airlock doors and on the windows of the bridge itself. Two glittering *whoomphs* escape into the void as the ship hull is breached. Like the pros they are, Marines drop into the breach with tremendous violence of action, immediately securing the area around them as they take advantage of the momentary disruption in hull pressure. They rally on their objectives, preparing for the next phase of the assault. Even with the thick bulkheads, a series of quiet *thnks* can be heard in the interrogation room as a line of marines impact the ship's hull on the nearby engineering section. The two guards blink and look up, confused and uncertain. The interrogator arrives on the bridge of the /Revenge/ just in time to hear the pilot swear over the Frigate's sudden loss of shields. Soon, both men are cursing - mostly at the lack of progress on their own repairs. If intimidating commands over the ship's internal comm system could spontaneously repair damage, they would be in fantastic shape - but for now, at least, it truly is up to the fighters and bombers outside to protect both larger craft from the New Republic. When a group of New Republic marines suddenly impacts their windshield, the two Sith officers share a wide-eyed look as, slowly, what is about to happen dawns on them. "GET TO THE HATCH!" the pilot cries, and the pair scramble for the bridge's exit, hoping against hope that they can get out and seal the blast door before the marines can breach the bridge's airlock and expose it to vacuum. They, unlike the marines, do not have environment suits. With the bombers proceeding single file, the Corvette's shields gain some strength on the facing side, though it weakens their defense on the opposite one. Despite the difficult aim, a single turbolaser battery opens fire on the line of bombers while they remain at range - if they get past the A-Wings and within range of the anti-fighter weaponry, their torpedoes will already be underway. "The frigate's shields are down," an officer notes as a strengthened blast from the Nebulon-B impacts their shields, and Captain Toshak nods grimly, setting his jaw. "Intensify forward firepower. If we can survive their bombardment, perhaps we can end this before Sith reinforcements arrive." The Trandoshan captive can also hear the thud and looks up as well, despite being bound to the chair, he can at least look up, at least slightly. He hopes those are the good guys and not the bad guys boarding the ship. The look of concern on the Sith guards seem to indicate the former. The trandoshan growled at one of the guards. "See, you should have listened to me and surrendered when you had the chance." The Frigate is firing almost wildly, and the bombers have done their job. Just because the tactic wasn't the most effective for the bombers on the corvette, doesn't mean they didn't do what was intended. And as the A-Wings pour in on them, they start to scatter even as the Interceptors charge into pursuit mode. There are a dozen interceptors, and the space is ugly with so much stuttered green laser cannon fire. A handful of torpedoes manage to launch towards the Corvette and four out of the six bombers are turned into so much debris in space. The last two punch the engines and manage to peel out of formation. Those are the ones who launched their payload. On the hull of the transport, there's a problem as Zero-G Assault Troopers get there just a bit slower than the NR Marines. Kussak gets a perfect view as a Silver-gleaming suit of powered armor comes into view in the distance and it raises its arm... firing. A dozen small scale, low-yield proton grenades are launched and they won't damage the hull, but they play havoc with vacsuited personnel as a general rule. Following the assault barrage, ten of the troopers thrust forward, their built in repeating blasters starting to sweep the hull to seek targets. The Frigate moves towards the Corvette, reaching out with its Turbolasers to try to make the enemy suffer. Problem is, only one side has shields, so those Turbolasers are splattering on the Corvette's shields, while return fire is simply slamming into armor and the like. The Frigate can only take so much of that, and with two Turbolasers out of commission, the Captain gives an order. The Frigate turns and starts to accelerate towards the hyper limit... its sublight engines at max. Green fire spatters over the Republic Interceptor's shields, which flare and distort under the hits that score themselves on the A-wings, but it takes time to overpower even small starfighter shields, and the Republican interceptors are slipperier than a greased-up Hutt on Tax Day. "Pattern Aurek-Five!" the lead pilot calls, and the Republic ships roll to pre-assigned attitudes and pull up hard, stressing the crafts' control systems. Even with the pre-determined pattern, two of the interceptors brush so close their shields feedback into each other and snap off as failsafes trigger, but that doesn't keep them from finishing their term and bringing the fight back to the Sith interceptors. The bridge team moves like unchained lightning. The pilot almost makes it out, throwing his co-pilot back into the two technicians behind him so he can scramble through the hatch. He hits the door seal just in time to avoid the explosive decompression that rips the other three Sith officers out into space, screaming silently and wide-eyed. Draelis and his team are inside the ship in a thrice, their magnetic grapples tugging them across the gaps like so many ziplines. One of the Marines finds the ship controls and after a few seconds the ship shudders and the power starts flickering intermittently. Life support in various sections fluctuates and the low thrum of the engines goes dead, leaving the ship ghastly silent. Draelis queries over his commlink. replies the Marine sergeant leading the other contingent. he shouts over his comms. Sergeant Indar fires at the incoming assault troopers with his rifle and the other Marines follow suit, at least until the tell-tale signs of incoming proton grenades make themselves visible. Indar shouts. He grabs his magnetic clamp and drops flat onto his belly, hanging on for dear life. The other four Marines in the chalk drop their grapples and leap -away- from the hull. Corporal Beahn, on the other end of the long tether, activates his hand-thruster and brings the whole tether-line whipping around and away from the incoming troopers. He slams down on the hull a good thirty meters around the starboard curve and sets his grapple. he shouts. Indar releases his own grapple and leaps away as well, firing down at the stormtroopers even as he catapults into the void. In less than four seconds, the entire assault team has leapfrogged clear around the curvature of the craft by using their thirty-meter tether as a long whip. Beahn and the other Marines reel him in quickly as he clears the turn of the hull, providing the Marines a chance to quickly rally and assess their situation after the ambush. Indar announces. The Marines ready their microgravity grenades, looking anxiously at where the ambush had taken place around the ship's curvature. Indar rapidly gets his Marines into order again and with a sharp gesture, points at the engines aft of their position. "Don't get cocky!" one of the guards snaps, giving the bound Trandoshan a dirty look. Given the puzzled look on the other guard's face, only the one understands Doshan. Narrowing his eyes, the first points squarely at Kussak, his lip curled in distaste. "You are not a free man /yet/." No sooner are the words out of his mouth than the already dim lights in the room flicker, the only sign deep in the slave ship that the bridge has been breached. Fortunately, Sith crewmen are on their toes and scramble to maintain life support, so that they - and the Trandoshan slaves imprisoned on board with them - are not left to perish in the face of the marine assault. "Brace for impact!" the Corvette Captain shouts, and the bridge staff have just enough time to do just that before their craft is hit by the two torpedoes. The shields flare bright in the blackness of space, but between the bombardment from the Frigate's turbolasers and the pair of torpedo impacts, the shields plummet. They do hold... but only just. "One more hit like that and our shields are done for," one of the crew reports, and the Captain nods. "Harassing fire - see to it that the frigate does exit the system, but keep as wide a range as we can to try and throw off their aim," he orders, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. That was too close. Kussak growls at the guard holding him. "Why don't you free my hands from these bonds, and fight me one on one..Then we'll see who really is or isn't afraid. You bind us because you're afraid of us. You enslave us because you are afraid of the strength we represent. We will not take it anymore. We will not work for the likes of your government." He snarls. "And if you must know, yes, Let it be known that it was *I* Kussak who organized the rebellion. Why do you think I requested the cleaning position? Do you think I enjoy cleaning every inch of this ship. No, us Trandoshans are smarter than the dump reptiles you think we are. I learned every aspect of this ship. And that led to the moment we are at now." He growls. "Do what you want to me, but know that the name Kussak will be known through the Sith Empire as the one who was able to humiliate the Sith Empire throughout the galaxy." He glares at the guard as if daring him to cut lose the bonds. It's a large firefight out in space. Blasters and grenades and Vacuum.. oh my! One other thing other than the enemy gate.. is down. That's the Assault Shuttle which withdrew to the other side of the ship with its reserve forces. Indar and Beahn might recall the unfair training scenario where they were pitted against two different enemy armies at once. This is where the marines end up, going around the ship and finding the -other- twenty troopers moving in on their position, trying to turn them into unmoving, blasted out corpses. Too bad there's no overseer here to make sure things are fair. Then comes the fateful moment... "Break off, break off. We'll just have to tell the Admiral that his son went down with the ship. Pull your men out and get out of here. Destroy that transport and make sure none of the slaves get away." says the Captain of the Frigate as what Turbolasers it has left keep firing at the Corvette harassing it. The TIE pilots are not green.. they know their stuff, and the remaining fighters focus on three or four of the A-Wings. "Squadron Leader. Your job is to keep them off of us long enough for us to get out." says the Captain. "Understood..." the fighter pilots know they are never leaving this system. They are all dead men, but have you ever fought someone with nothing left to lose? The ten remaining TIE Interceptors start fighting like demons then, not trying to survive, merely trying to take as many with them as they can. The Bombers are turning to withdraw. They have hyperdrives, and they hope to put them to good use. Meanwhile, the Missiles and High powered (Capital scale) Lasers on the shuttle are targeting the slave ship even as the troopers are ordered to withdraw, a fighting withdrawal to prevent any of the Republic troops from boarding -their- ship too. Sure, they have numbers, but something about these Marines... they are -good-. The shield-less fighters put up a great fight, attempting to snap-roll and twist their way through the green rain, but the energy blasts slice their way through the armored hulls, and one after the other, both pilots yank hard on their ejection rings to blast themselves out of the fighters before they erupt in painfully-bright explosions of light. The NR considers its pilots a far more important investment than their fighters, and so the pair of suddenly itinerant space-drifters are forced to sit the rest of the fight out. Or thus goes the idea, but then, plans rarely go well in combat, and only one of the ejection beacons can be heard by the Republic's sensors-- whether the other is silent or there is nothing to report... will unfortunately never be fully known. The remaining six A-wings, however, have no time to reflect on their companions' fate as they re-form into new pairs to adapt to the losses, and as the TIEs focus on two of these pairs, the third peels off as the formation spirals into a sharp loop under and around the hull of the slave ship. Exactly where those other two have gone becomes obvious, as they cut back around on a reciprocal maneuver, seeking to score deflection shots on the fighters chasing the lead elements. Desperation is a powerful tool indeed-- these ex-Rebellion pilots know the principle intimately, however. You can't go back, and you can't go forward. The pickup shuttle is too far away, and there's no cover on the ship. Where else to go but up? Indar shouts. The Marines blow their grapples and activate their hand thrusts and, in a single motion, catapult upwards- straight -towards- the assault shuttle disgorging troopers at them! The two rear Marines lay down fire from their micro-grenade launchers, while Indar leads the other two in the assault. They pass close enough to get a grapnel whip around the Gamma shuttle and latch on. They scramble to put the shuttle between themselves and the remaining troopers, moving to get to the bridge before the slower-moving zero-G troopers can turn around and head back to the shuttlecraft. shouts Beahn. He grabs the corpse and cuts it loose from the line, then activates the emergency transponder and kicks him into space. Hopefully a recovery team can pick the body up at a later point. Now only four, the Marines move fast to repeat their assault, this time on the Gamma. It's unpredictable and it's reckless, and decidedly a Marine move. Inside the slave ship, Draelis' team breaks up. Two Marines work rapidly to restore power to the shields and at least get partial maneuvering thrusters online. Draelis leads the remaining two Marines down the hallways at a near sprint, shooting anyone with a weapon that gets in their way as they blitz towards the slave deck. Unfortunately for Kussak, the trandoshan has made a miscalculation - he assumes that the Sith would fight fair at all. Sith are a great many things, but fair is not one of them. In tandem, the two guards simply raise their blasters towards the Trandoshan, no translation apparently necessary for the second to understand the gist of Kussak's words. The first trooper leers viciously at Kussak, venom dripping from his every word as they prepare to fire: "You rebel /scum/." Fortunately for the captive trandoshan, however, Draelis' group of three reach the door to his interrogation chamber in time. The two guards are startled when the door whisks open automatically and are quick to whirl on the marines instead, but are nailed square in their chests with deadly precision by the elite force's fire before they can even get a shot off, leaving the marines and Kussak alone... and unguarded. While the majority of the Corvette's fire continues to ensure the fleeing Frigate's course remains unchanged, one watchful gunnery officer sees what is happening near the slave ship before anyone else. As he trains one of the turbolaser batteries onto the assault shuttle to save the slave ship, he does not hesitate, unable to see the group of marines flying through the blackness of space and towards his target. He fires. It only takes one hit to send the Sith assault shuttle up in a spectacular explosion, fire and sparks erupting out into space in a blast powerful enough to send a shockwave rocketing through space. The Zero-G Sith troopers are unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast itself, whereas the Republic marines luck out - comparatively. They catch the shockwave and are sent hurtling back towards the slave ship at /great/ velocity. The Force, however, is with them, as a Sith technician gets the job done: the slave transport's shields spring back to life just in time to encase the ship - and the marines - in a protective bubble, absorbing much of the impact of the explosion. The ship is still rocked hard, sending the crewmen aboard off their feet with a chorus of startled cries. The staggering explosion of the assault shuttle did its thing, the Zero G troopers too close to survive it. One or two of them might have, but they were sent off in ballistic arcs that would likely make them burn up in the atmosphere. It's a good thing the NR Marines hadn't gotten close enough yet. Yes indeed. Anyhow, aboard the Frigate, the stars are stretching into eternity, and the Captain was unable to bear witness to the destruction of the shuttle. The fighters keep going, but eventually, they'll have nothing left and nowhere left to go. On board the slave ship, the Sith in the room with Kussak are killed before they can emit anything more than a "Erk.." of death. The rest are going to be a slow hunt and kill procedure... but before long, the senior officer aboard the transport knows the score, the odds, and he calls over the PA, "We surrender. Please, if we surrender, don't kill any more of my men.." Kussak swallows heavily taking a deep breath as he hears the words from the guard. He glares at the guard, as he raises his blaster toward him with his hands still chained behind him. "You Savage Cowards......You are about to kill me in cold blood, without even giving me a fair chance to fight. Your kind are truly pathetic. Cowards....that's all you are." He snarls. "That's all you are...Cowards." He says nothing more and just stares blankly at the barrel of the blaster aimed toward him waiting for the end to come. Suddenly, out of nowhere the doors blast open and the Marines come in, causing him to jump. Everything happens so fast, its a blur, and soon he finds himself in the room with Marines, but these aren't the enemy. They are obviously not Sith. He wonders if perhaps the New Republic had heard their distress call. Could it be? They were actually free? With the call of surrender, the battle aboard the ship just... stops, as if someone flipped a switch. The well-trained marines change their focus, some moving to secure their new Sith prisoners while the rest go in search of the imprisoned Trandoshans on board, to free them from their bindings and arrange for their transport to the victorious Corellian Corvette. In the interrogation room, one marine moves forward to release Kussak from his own bindings, a lopsided smile showing through the visor on his helmet. he says simply. The rest, really, is cleanup. Retrieval craft are launched from the cramped Corvette's hangar, to seek out their ejected pilots and the marines laying dazed on the slave ship's hull, and begin the long task of transporting people from the captured /Revenge/ to their new safe haven. It takes an hour in all, during which time Private Stasio and his squadmates are happy to chat with the Trandoshans awaiting transport, friendly and warm despite their brutal precision during the battle for the ship. Stasio smiles as he gestures for Kussak to board the shuttle, piling in behind him and settling down in amongst the trandoshans, Sith prisoners and marines for the startlingly peaceful ride back to the Corvette. As they land in the hangar, Stasio draws off his helmet and shakes out his hair, sighing in relief before he offers Kussak a warm smile. "Welcome to the New Republic, friend. You're free." New Beginnings